


This Can't Be Love

by Hobbit_Riddlebird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Gangsters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21676735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbit_Riddlebird/pseuds/Hobbit_Riddlebird
Summary: 1920s/1930s Gotham: Oswald runs a speakeasy and Ed comes to work for him.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Victor Zsasz (brief)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	This Can't Be Love

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this fic was written months ago for Nygmobblepot Week 2019 for the prompt "Different Era" and has been in a WIP file since then. Well I dusted it off and decided to finish it. 
> 
> I feel it's probably a bit uneven considering the long break between writing but I really liked what I had and didn't want to regret not finishing it.
> 
> The original influence for this fic was Cyrano de Bergerac but I think the idea kinda got away from me in the end.
> 
> Hopefully this isn't too OOC..

Ed watches the stranger enter the abandoned liquor store from across the street. He waits for twenty minutes but the stranger does not come back out. He crosses the street and looks in the window. The streetlamp right outside of the store has been broken out and not fixed, a common sight on this side of Gotham, making it too dark to see inside. 

He looks around to make sure there is no one else around and opens the door, the door is silent as though it has recently been oiled. And the bell above the door has been gutted but a string disappears into the wall. He gives it a hard tug but it does not come out. 

No doubt someone knows he is here now, he wets his lips. There is no turning back now. He walks carefully deeper into the store. The floor has been swept clear but the shelves are dusty with long neglect. He quietly sneezes. 

There is no sign of the stranger that had come in before him. If he is wrong, if this is not the entrance of the infamous speakeasy, the Iceberg Lounge, and if the man has a weapon he could be walking into an ambush but he is not wrong. 

Ed has nowhere else to go he cannot be wrong. 

On the back wall he spots the door to what must have been the backroom when the building was simply a liquor store where someone has painted a cartoon penguin wearing a top hat and bowtie on the door. 

The Penguin. Ed smiles and touches the painting. His search has finally come to an end. He tries the door… it is locked. A panel near the top slides open. 

“You gotta knock,” a male voice calls down. 

Ed looks up but the speaker stays hidden in the shadow. “I grant entrance and ward off bad luck, what am I?” He knocks the door. “I am a knock.” 

“A knucklehead, maybe,” the man laughs harshly. “Got the secret word, jokester?” 

Ed had not thought there would be password to get in. “I… give me a moment,” he just has to think. The password would likely change nightly to avoid detection from the authorities. But it would need to be something the Penguin's patrons would know. He looks around for a clue. There on the shelf was a bottle of liquor clear of dust. He picks it up. “Firefly,” he reads the label. “The password is Firefly.” He holds his breath hoping his gamble will pay off. 

The panel slides shut and Ed can imagine guns on the other side of the door ready to shoot through the flimsy wood. Surely he has seen too many gangster films at the cinema, he tries to tell himself. Finally the door opens in front of the him. 

“Boss says to let ya in,” the speaker finally reveals himself, he is completely bald Ed is surprised to see. “But gotta search ya first,” he motions behind Ed. “Turn around and put your hands of the counter, make sure to spread your legs, ya hear?”

The man does not hold a weapon in his hands but Ed has a feeling that does not mean the man is not armed. Or that he even needs a weapon to be dangerous. He swallows and does as the man instructed. 

Ed tries to hold still as the man touches his back and sides. He starts to feel panicked. His legs begin to shake. 

“What's your name, sprout?” the man speaks behind his ear. 

“Why?” he asks. 

“Cause I usually like to know my date’s name before we get to third base,” he chuckles. “Call me old fashioned, I guess.” Ed feels his hand move closer to his crotch and jumps away from the strange man. 

“Zsasz, you know the boss's rules,” a large man appears. “Follow me, boy. Boss wants to meet you.” 

“Ah, you know I was just playing with him, Butch. Look at him, he's greener than the stuff you blow out of your nose every morning,” the bald man shrugs towards Ed. Zsasz the other had called him. “No offense.” 

“Word of advice kid,” Butch put his arm around Ed. “Turn around now and never come back. Forgot you ever found this place.”

“I… thought you said your boss wanted to see me,” he is afraid they were going to kick him out.

“That he does,” he lowers his voice. “You've caught the boss's interest, if you know what I mean.” 

“That's good,” Ed knocks Butch’s arm off of him. “I want the Penguin to notice me.”

Zsasz giggles. “I like this one. He's got spunk.” 

“Fine. Fine. Just don't call him Penguin to his face if you want to live. Call him Boss or Mr. Cobblepot, got it?” Butch pushes him back. “And don't mention his nose, in fact don't even look at it.” 

“His… nose?” he asks confused. What does that mean, he thought. 

“You know what they say about a man with a big nose?” Zsasz winks. 

“I think that's hands… or is it feet?” Butch shrugs. “Anyway, come on before the coppers find us standing here.” 

“Boss won't be disappointed by the size of your feet, green bean,” Zsasz whistles. “What are you a size twelve, thirteen?” 

“Fourteen,” Ed answers embarrassed. His feet have always felt too large to him and he often trips on his own feet. 

“You shoulda let me search him, Butch,” Zsasz laughs. “If the boy is packing a weapon it's likely between his legs.” 

Ed feels himself blush. He is not so innocent that he does not know what they speak of but he has never heard anyone speak so frankly about sexual matters before. 

“But maybe the boss wants to search him himself,” Zsasz bumps into Ed. “Am I right?” 

“Don't mind him,” Butch pushes Ed through the doorway. “Boss has rules against molestation in his club. He's only playing with you.”

“Unless you wanna be molested that is,” Zsasz wiggles brows he does not have, it is a strange sight. 

Ed straightens and looks around. He is in a storage room that has been cleared. On the far wall is a metal door that must lead the the speakeasy itself. On the other side of that door is the start of a new life. 

Butch opens the metal door and Ed enters a world that is nothing like the one outside. There are gambling tables in row after row and almost everyone has a drink in their hand, some have two. And the air is foggy with heavy cigarette smoke. He starts to cough, Zsasz pats him on the back.

“Now those dolls over there,” he gives a nod towards three women standing together watching them. “They call themselves the Sirens. Run a rival speakeasy in the Narrows, don't take kindly to gents. I'd stay clear of them if I were you.” 

“They're not too bad,” Butch waves at the women. “And easy on the eyes.” 

“Butch here is soft on the black-haired doll,” Zsasz whispers to Ed. “Too bad she's soft on the red-head dame next to her.” 

They are all three beautiful women but it is the blonde woman that draws his eyes. She looks like a silver screen goddess in beautiful color, the mysterious beauty of Garbo and the sophistication of Crawford in one package. 

“Forget about it, Valentino,” Butch notices his gaze. “Bella is outta your league. She's outta everyone's league.” 

“Anyway boss would kill you for so much as looking at her,” Zsasz chuckles. 

Bella, he thinks the name is as pretty as she is. She must be the Penguin’s moll, of course a man as powerful as Cobblepot would have the most beautiful woman in Gotham on his arm. 

“This must be the rookie that was trying to get in my establishment,” the new voice is low, but anything but gentle. “How did you find us?” 

Ed whips his head around, the woman by the name of Bella forgotten. He is face to face with the infamous Penguin. Finally. 

The Penguin is shorter than he had imagined. And he wears a thick monocle covering one eye. But one thing catches him by surprise more than anything else and that is the mob boss's incredibly long nose. 

Ed opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. 

“Tell me before I have you forcibly removed from the premises, how did you find us?” he pokes Ed in the chest with his cane. 

“I… followed my nose… I mean a scent,” he stutters. Zsasz groans behind him. 

“Who has sent you?” the Penguin demands. “Who are you with?”

“No.. no one,” Ed answers. “I am alone.” It is the truth. 

“What do you want?” the Penguin takes a step back. 

“What I have, you need, and no one wants.” 

The Penguin blinks in confusion. “What is this?” 

“I think it's a joke, boss,” Zsasz tells him. “He told one outside too, wasn't very funny.” 

“You a joke man?” Penguin brushes him off. “Already got two clowns, don't need a third act, unless your last name is Valeska too.” 

“I believe it is a riddle, dear Oswald,” the blonde bombshell has come up to them. “What could this man have that you do not, that is the answer.” 

“Nothing!” Penguin growls. “He has nothing that I would need.” 

“Then that is a answer,” she turns her smile to Ed. “Is that not so?” 

Beautiful and brilliant, he thinks. “Correct,” he answers her. Not only did she recognize it as being a riddle, she correctly answered it too, he thinks he could be in love. 

“Isabelle,” the Penguin addresses her. “Please leave us.” 

“It’s Isabell-a,” she draws out the last “a”. 

“Her name is Isabelle but my dear cousin believes it to be too common,” he confides in Ed. “So she has changed it to Isabella to sound more sophisticated like the screen idols she looks up to.” 

“I like the name,” Ed tries the defend her. “It suits you.” 

“You're sweet,” Isabella smiles. “Come find me after my cousin is through with you, I'll buy you a drink.” She bends down and kisses the Penguin’s cheek. “The offer still stands, Ozzie my dear. The Sirens is always open for you.” She gives a wave and blows a kiss. “Ta-tah, boys.” 

The Penguin snaps his finger to Zsasz and points to Isabella. “Have her followed… clandestinely. It would be a shame if my dear cousin ran into any trouble.” 

“You got it, boss.” Zsasz salutes him and moves into a crowd. 

Had he just witnessed the Penguin threatening his cousin, Ed wonders if he should find her and give her a warning. 

“As for you,” the Penguin addresses Ed. “First an introduction, what's your name my good fellow?” 

“Ed. Nygma,” he replies. 

“Ed Nygma,” the Penguin raises his brow. “Not your real name, I take it, Mr. Enigma?” 

“Real enough,” he counters. 

“You're either running or hiding from something,” he pokes Ed with his cigar holder. “Which is it?” 

“Neither.” Ed is finished with running and done with hiding. No more.

“You're lying,” the Penguin chuckles. “But then again, aren't we all? How old are you boy?”

“I am not a boy. I just turned twenty-one last month,” Ed tells his first lie to Penguin. 

“Answer truthfully boy or I ask Butch here to remove you from the premises,” the Penguin holds a finger up. “Are you over the age of eighteen?” 

“Yes,” he answers truthfully. He is in truth turning twenty-one in six months. 

“Good,” the Penguin nods. “Now what do you want from me?” 

“I have come seeking a job, Mr. Penguin.” This is it, all the cards on the table. 

“And what talents do you think to offer me?” 

“Anything you would… desire of me, Mr. Penguin,” he looks down. 

“Have you ever lain with a woman, lad?” 

Ed shakes his head. “No.” 

“Have you ever lain for another man?” 

He blushes. “No.” 

“Have you killed somebody and watched them take their last breath?” 

Ed looks up and meets his eyes. “Yes.” 

“Well, well, aren't you full of surprises,” he hums. “But I have no opening for a hit man.” 

“I will do anything, Mr. Penguin! I would… shine your shoes, wash the dishes, anything, just give me a chance,” he begs. “I'll put the nose to the grindstone, you'll see.” 

Ed does not notice the silence at first.

“You are either incredibly stupid or very brave, Nygma,” the Penguin leans forward. “My nose humors you, does it? Did you come here to stare at the freak Penguin of Gotham? Do you want to pull on it, see if it's real or not?”

Ed slaps his hand over his mouth. “I didn't mean to… that is, I, it's just an expression.”

“Boss, I remind you that there are GCPD in attendance tonight,” Butch speaks calmly. 

“Did you know in many cultures a large nose symbolizes wealth and wisdom, and power?” Ed rambles. “The larger the nose the more fertile the male.” He notices the Penguin turn red in the face, but whether in anger or embarrassment he does not know. 

“It just so happens I have need of a busboy,” the Penguin straightens. “Butch take this Nygma in the back, show him around.” 

“Does this mean…?” 

“Yes, Ed Nygma,” the Penguin holds out his hand. “Consider yourself hired.” 

Ed grabs his hand. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Penguin! Thank you!” Penguin pulls him closer. “Don't make me regret it, Nygma.” 

* * *

It had been a tiring day. The new Commissioner, the do-gooder, Gordon had returned poking around and asking more questions about the current terf wars being fought in the streets of Gotham. It is ugly business and not one that Oswald has anything to do with it. 

He has been looking forward to closing up for the morning and sitting with Ed before sending the young man home for the day. It has become somewhat of a ritual every morning and one he looks forward to every night. But this morning is special, he feels his pocket, this morning he has a gift for his newest employee. 

Ed Nygma has proven himself to be a hard worker. And even more importantly a loyal man. Maybe even a friend. He is clever and witty but honest too. And handsome enough to make him almost forget himself. If he were anyone else he would invite the young man upstairs to his bed but he is not anyone else.

“Mr. Penguin!” Ed greets him at the bar with a huge smile. “You're late this morning, it's almost five. I thought you had forgotten about me,” he turns around to mix the customary morning drink. 

“There was business to attend to, you needed not stay on my account,” he takes a seat at the bar. “But I am glad you did, I have something I wish to discuss with you.”

“Mr. Cobblepot? Am I in trouble?” Ed places the drink in front of him. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Edward, of course not,” he touches Ed’s hand lightly. “It has come to my notice that you have been with us now for six months, and I would like to make your position permanent.” He takes out the pin out of suit pocket and slides it over to Ed. “If you accept my offer.” 

Ed holds the umbrella shaped pin carefully in his hands. “I don't know how to ever repay you, Mr. Cobblepot.” 

“Here,” Oswald takes the pin back and pins it on Ed's secondhand suit. Now that he is truly one of his men he will buy him a new suit, he could not have his newest employee dressed in anything but the best. “With this pin you are under my umbrella of protection, Edward. Not even the GCPD will bother you while you wear this pin.” 

Ed lifts the pin to his mouth and kisses it. “Thank you, Mr. Cobblepot, I shall wear it with honor.” Oswald wonders if it would be improper to tell Ed that it is tradition to kiss his new boss. 

“Ed, please, call me Oswald.” 

“Oswald,” Ed whispers. The sound of his name on Edward's lips makes Oswald feel like kissing him. 

“You should get home, as you said it is late,” Oswald tells him before he does something stupid. “I'll close up, go on get out of here.” 

“If you insist,” Ed almost seems disappointed. “I will see you tonight, I guess.” 

Oswald watches the young man leave with something like regret. He had long accepted that love would never be in the cards for him. Why did he have to find the love of life now? Why here? Why Ed Nygma? 

He pulls out the other item from his suit pocket, a gift from the new Commissioner. It is a newspaper article regarding a local murder five years ago. 

‘Local Boy, Edward Nashton, Knifes Father.’ 

Edward Nashton, sixteen, sentenced to juvenile detention for the murder death of his father, Frank Nashton. 

The picture was five years old but there is no mistaking his Ed Nygma. Reading between the lines of the article it is clear that Mr. Frank Nashton was a cruel and abusive man and that the boy Edward had acted in self defense. 

Oswald crumples up the article and drops it in a clean glass and sets fire to the fragile paper with a bar match.

Ed Nygma's past does not matter to him.

* * *

Ed has been working for the Penguin six months and he had never been happier. He has finally found a place where he feels as though he belongs. And he feels a kinship with Oswald that he has never felt for another person. It must be how it feels to have a brother, he thinks. In fact there is only one thing missing from making his life complete, love. 

Although he has also found love. She just does it know it yet. 

He watches the enchanting Isabella talking to her cousin, Oswald, from behind the bar. There is such a stark contrast to the cousins that it is hard to believe that they are related. He is short where she is tall, she is blonde while he has black hair. Their blue-green eyes are the same though. 

They seem to be arguing about something, probably something to do with the terf war being waged between the bootleggers in Gotham. They do not speak of such things in front of the help of course but Ed overhears things. Oswald wants to stay out of the war but the Sirens believe that they would be stronger if they joined forces together. 

Ed's loyalty is to Oswald, the pin in his suit jacket is proof of that. But he also thinks the Sirens, and Isabella, make a good point. Not to mention it would mean seeing more of the Cobblepot cousin. 

Isabella finally breaks away from Oswald and moves towards the bar. 

“Ed Nygma,” she smiles. “I see my dear cousin has given you his pin,” she winks. “Does this mean you're going steady?” 

“It means I have sworn my loyalty to the Penguin.” 

“My cousin trusts you, Ed Nygma,” she continues. “I am glad he has found someone, he has been alone far too long. And you, Edward, have you found someone as well?” She sits on the stool. 

“I believe… I may have, yes,” he blushes. “But they do not know of it.” He looks towards Oswald afraid he will not approve of him speaking to his cousin. 

“My aunt Gertrud, Ozzie's mother, always said to run towards love,” she follows his sight with a smile. “Love is no good being only one sided. Ask your crush out, you cannot win at cards without showing your hand.” 

“What if they say no?” he turns back. 

“I have it on good authority they will not.” 

“I have nothing to offer,” he tells her. He does not even have his name. 

“I may be given if earned but I can never be stolen and to buy me makes my worth less, what am I?” 

Love, he almost answers but the clues do not fit. “Loyalty,” he replies. 

“And now I must leave you, think about what I've said,” she stands. “But before I go a warning, do not trust one that sells their loyalty.” She nods towards her cousin. Zsasz is whispering in Oswald’s ear. “My cousin does not trust the hit man, note he does wear the Penguin's umbrella.” 

Oswald catches the two of them watching, he holds Ed's eyes as he holds out his hand for Zsasz to kiss his ring. Ed knows he should look away but he cannot. He wants to be the one to kiss the Penguin's ring, no one else should be kissing the Penguin. 

He would kiss the Penguin’s ring and fingers. He would get down on his knees and kiss the Penguin’s feet. He would kiss Oswald’s nicotine flavored lips. Oswald would kiss him back… he would pull his hair… 

“Ed,” Isabella snaps her fingers in front of his face. She holds out a business card. “The Sirens card, just call and ask for me if you want to talk more.” She blew him a kiss. “You have the winning hand, Ed, remember that.” 

Ed watches Isabella leave confused about what just happened. He looks down at the card in his hand. She had given him her phone number. 

* * *

Oswald sits down behind his desk, it has already been a long morning and he has been on his feet all night but his leg hurts even more to sit. He ignores the pain and opens the ledger in front of him. He has never been good with maths but he knows money and he knows someone has been stealing from him. 

'You have a rat in the house, cousin,' Isabelle had told him. 'And the only way to get rid of a rat is to exterminate the pest.' 

His mind shuffles through the most likely suspects and two names remain, Zsasz and Butch. But were either smart enough for such a theft, he questions. Another name floats to the top of his mind, Edward. What did he know of the young man, really, he thinks. 

A knock at the door interrupts his thoughts, he closes the ledger and puts it back under a locked drawer. "Enter." 

The door opens revealing none other than Zsasz on the other side, the assassin drags in a small boy by the arm. He drops the boy in the chair facing Oswald and tosses him a paper tablet like the sort reporters wear around their necks. 

"Found this stray outside, he was carrying that." 

Oswald reads the paper although he already knows what it says. 

'The bearer of this note is under the Penguin's umbrella by order of Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot.' 

Oswald does not look at the boy. "You may leave us, Victor." 

"Are you sure, boss?" Zsasz asks. "I don't know if I trust the puppy." 

"He's all of nine, Zsasz. What can he do?" he laughs. 

"I killed my first man when I was seven," he says matter factorially. "You'd be surprised what a small child is capable of." 

"I think I can handle myself," Oswald tells him. "You are dismissed, do not make me repeat the order." 

"Suit yourself," he shrugs. He turns to the boy. "A professional courtesy, aim for the good leg. The bad leg won't be able to hold his weight and he'll go down." 

"Zsasz! Should it concern me that you have clearly given this some thought?" Oswald is almost amused. 

"I'm a professional, boss. It's my business to think of these things," he winks. "It's nothing personal." 

"Understood," Oswald says. 

He watches Zsasz close the door behind. The little exchange proves one thing, the culprit is not the assassin. Zsasz is an honest and simple criminal. He is more likely to kill him and rob the corpse. 

He sighs and turns to the boy still in the chair Victor had dropped him in. 

"Martin," he addresses the boy. "I told you not to come here, only in the case of an emergency." He hands the tablet back to him. "You better have a good reason for being here." 

The boy starts to write and shows Oswald what he has written: 

'I am not 9. I am 9 and one half.' 

"And I would like you to reach your tenth birthday, I have enemies, Martin. Enemies that would not hesitate to kill a boy of nine and a half. This is not a game." 

The boy frowns and writes again: 

'I know!' 

"You know nothing. Nothing," Oswald yells. "That man that brought you in is an assassin, Martin," he lowers his voice. "And now he knows of your existence."

Martin writes:

'Is he a bad man? Why does he work for you?' 

Oswald sighs. "Because I am also a bad man. Would a good man employ an orphan boy to spy for him?" 

The boy writes:

'I have something. I followed the cops like you wanted.' 

Oswald should send the boy away, he should find a good family to take him in. He should not use the boy in this way. But he has always been a selfish man. He waves the boy to continue. "Show me." 

The boy shows him a drawing:

A skinny cop standing next to a fat cop with a donut.

"Commissioner Jim Gordon and Detective Harvey Bullock," he names the stick figures. "Where did you follow them?" 

The boy writes:

'The docks. Big one said the shipment would arrive tonight. 9. Docking bay 14. Other one said Penguin will be back in Blackgate tomorrow.'

Damn, it is as he suspected. The rat has been working with the GCPD. He will have to call off the shipment tonight, it will cost him money but better to lose money than getting arrested. 

The boy writes: 

'Did I do good?'

Oswald ruffles the boy's messy curls. "Yes, you did very good." 

Martin flips to another page in his tablet and shows Oswald. 

A drawing for a small boy under an umbrella with a penguin at his feet.

Oswald sighs. Putting the boy under his protection would keep him out of trouble but it would also place a target on the boy for his enemies to use against him. The boy looks up at him hopefully. He nods, takes a pin out of drawer and tosses it to the boy. "Do not take that off under this roof. If you need me for whatever reason show that to one of my people. Do not trust anyone who does not wear the umbrella, that includes the bald assassin, do you swear to me?" 

Martin fastens the pin to his secondhand jacket and puts his hand over his heart. 'I swear,' he mouths. He smiles like the young boy he is. 

Oswald feels a chill, he hopes he has not put the boy in even more danger. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. He holds his hand out to Martin to tell him to remain quiet, so to speak. 

"Enter," he reaches for the pistol concealed under his desk.

"Mr. Cobblepot.. Oswald?" Ed peaks behind the door. "May I have a moment of your time? I know you're very busy but it won't take long."

Oswald drops his hand in relief. "Of course, Ed. I always have time for you. Come in, please take a seat." 

Ed closes the door behind him but stops when he spots Martin. "I was unaware that you had company. I can come back later when you are alone." 

"Stay, Martin is just leaving." Oswald motions the boy forward. "Martin this is Ed Nygma, one of my closest advisors, Ed this is Martin my newest spy." Oswald feels something like pride introducing Ed to Martin, and Martin to Ed.

"I was not aware that you employ children, Mr. Oswald." Ed looks down at the boy with a frown. 

"Martin is more than an employee, Ed," Oswald puts his arm around the boy. "Martin is my ward, he is family." 

Martin points at the umbrella pin pinned to his coat and points to the same pinned upon Ed's. He looks unquestioningly at Oswald. 

"Yes, Martin. You can trust Mr. Nygma. Ed is family too," Oswald fluffs the boy's hair. "Now why don't you go upstairs and find Olga. She will have you cleaned and fed. Go on." 

The boy glares at Ed on his way out and shuts the door with more force than necessary. 

"Did you mean it, what you told Martin?" Ed asks him.

"About what?" Oswald turns towards him.

"About me being family," Ed doesn't look away. "Do you mean it?"

"I... yes, of course Ed," Oswald fears he has revealed more than he has meant to with his words. 

"I am happy to hear you say that, Mr. Cobblepot," Ed relaxes for the first time since entering the office. "I have come to think of you as family as well, in fact that is what I wished to discuss." 

"Why don't we sit," Oswald sits behind his desk and motions Ed to take the seat across from him. "Now what did you wish to discuss?" 

"I want to thank you, Oswald," Ed sits down. "Before you took me under your umbrella I was a nobody, I had nothing. You have given me everything I ever wanted, a job, respect, family. But I find there is still something still missing, something I am hoping you can help me obtain."

"I admit you have my interest," Oswald stands and walks to the private bar. "Are you asking for a raise, or promotion?" He begins to pour two glasses, he is not surprised, had actually anticipated this moment. Ed Nygma is an ambitious man, perhaps even as much as himself, and he believes in rewarding such ambitions. 

"Neither. This is actually a request of a personal nature," he cracks his knuckles nervously. "I speak of love, Oswald." 

Oswald spills his liquor. "Love?" he squeaks and turns it into a cough. His heart stutters with hope but caution has kept him alive this long. "That is a noble pursuit indeed. My mother taught me, the noblest." 

"Run towards love," Ed spoke so softly Oswald almost does not hear him. 

"My mother would often say that," Oswald puts his drink down. It is fate, it must be. 

"Yes, Isabella told me," Ed smiles. "And so I hoped you would understand." 

"Isabelle?" What does his blasted cousin have to do with this?

"You said you thought of me as family, and I hope you do for I have fallen in love with your cousin, the lovely Isabella," Ed leans forward. "And I am here to ask, no beg, for your permission to pursue her hand." 

Oswald feels a pain in his chest as though he is having a heart attack, or his ice cold heart is shattering into tiny shards cutting through his chest. Sentimental drivel, he thinks. 

"You do not require my permission, and neither does she," he laughs. "In fact she would resent the very idea. But if you need it, consider it yours." 

"Oh, thank you, Oswald!" Ed grabs his hand and shakes it. "Thank you." He kisses the back of his hand.

"There is no need for that," he blushes and takes his hand back. "You may be family, but even family works in this place and I believe your shift is starting." 

"Of course," Ed stands and moves towards the door looking as though Oswald had promised him the keys to the entire kingdom. 

"One more thing, Nygma," he calls out. "Do not name your first born Oswald. It is an unfortunate name for any child." 

"I was thinking more of Gertrude," Ed grins. "Thank you again." He shuts the door behind him.

Ed Nygma would not be the first handsome man that had fallen for his cousin, and would probably not be the last to have his heart broken by his cousin.

He needs to get over the young man. 

Oswald calls Zsasz on the com for a little distraction. 

* * *

Ed dials the number Isabella had given him. 

"Sirens," a bored voice answers, the girl sounds too young to be answering the phone at a speakeasy. 

"I want to speak to Isabella... Um... Isabella...," he pauses, he does not even know her last name. 

"Listen buddy, I don't know how you got this number but I think you got the wrong number," he can practically hear her yawn.

"Wait! I'm a friend of... that is I work with Isabella's cousin, Oswald Cobblepot, and she gave me a card with her number on it," he quickly explains before she can hang up.

"You work with Pengy? Hold a second," the girl moves the phone receiver away from her mouth. "Hey, Bella, some guy on the phone asking for you, says he works with Pengy." Ed hears another voice but cannot make out what it says. "Don't know, didn't say. Hey, mister what you're name?" 

"Ed. Ed Nygma," he answers. 

"Funny name," the girl laughs. "Says it's Nygma. Ed Nygma," she calls out to the other person.

"Hello again, Ed Nygma," Isabella answers. "Have you given some more thought to what I said?" 

"I... that is why I have called. I have spoken to Oswald and you were correct, your cousin seems amicable to the idea." 

"Of course he is," she giggles. "I know my cousin and I have our differences but it is in my best interest to keep the old bird happy." 

"I wish to see you... in person," he lowers his voice hoping not to be overheard. "To discuss things further."

"Sure sweetie," her voice and the pet name causes him to blush hot under the collar. "How about you stop by on your night off?" 

"Tuesday," he swallows nervously. "My night off is Tuesday." 

"Tuesday night it is then," Isabella agrees. "You know how to find me. Tell the doorman Bella sent you. And Ed? Good luck with my cousin. He's a hard man but he has a good heart, remember that." She hangs up before he can even say goodbye. 

He replaces the receiver feeling stunned. He has a date! 

* * *

Oswald initiates the kiss with Zsasz. There is no feelings involved, they understand each other in this way. It's just one more way his assassin serves him. And Zsasz receives a hefty bonus for the extracurricular activity. The arrangement is beneficial to them both.

Zsasz digs his fingers into Oswald's soft sides. "Thought you were saving yourself for the boy." He rubs his thigh against Oswald's growing erection. "Boy can't please you like I can." 

"Not paying you to speak," Oswald grunts. "Fuck me into the desk." 

Zsasz pushes him forward into the edge of the desk, Oswald braces his arms against the surface as the assassin starts to unbuckle his belt. He wants it like this, he can pretend the assassin is someone else. Someone that wants him.

"Oswald, I need your help," the door is thrown open and he is facing a very red in the face Ed Nygma. "I didn't... I thought... I'll go," he covers his eyes. "I didn't see anything, I swear." 

"Would you like me to describe what I'm doing in detail?" Zsasz giggles. "Or perhaps you would like to join us." 

"Stop," Oswald removes himself from Zsasz's grip and straightens his trousers. "You have that shipment to pick up, Victor. Meet Gabe at the docks." 

"Should I report in when I'm done?" Zsasz wiggles his fingers in Oswald's face. 

"I don't think that's a good idea," Oswald dismisses the assassin. "Now leave us." 

"Sure thing, boss," Zsasz leaves. 

Oswald sighs. Despite the rumors he has always tried to be discrete, for good reason. And Zsasz despite his bluster is not one to brag about conquests. But Gabe and Butch also know of his tendencies. And also Olga and Isabelle. He can trust Ed to keep what he saw quiet but it is unfortunate. 

"About what you walked in on, I will not insult either of our intelligence by saying it isn't what it looked like," he tells Ed. "Nor do I owe you an explanation. That being said I need your word that what you saw will not leave this room, are we understood?" 

"I... you have my word," Ed nods. "Of course... not that you need... I mean... are you and Victor... you know together?" 

"Not in the sense you mean," Oswald laughs. "His gun and his cock are mine to hire," he is crude purposely trying to put Ed off. "And he uses his cock almost as well as his gun." 

"So... you're homosexual?" Ed frowns as though he is thinking. 

"I suppose I am, although I am not a great fan of that word," he shrugs. "But you did not come to call to discuss my sexual deviance. You said something about needing my help when you so rudely interrupted." 

"I rang Isabella and asked her out on a date," Ed tells him. "I am to meet her Tuesday night at the Sirens." 

"Good for you, perhaps one of us might still get lucky." The best woman had won, he couldn't hold it against her. "What do you need my help for? Butch already covers for you that night, unless you're thinking you need the next night off as well, eh?" Oswald knows he's being a bitch. 

"No... It's just... well I've never actually been on a date with a woman before." 

"Well that's something we both have in common," Oswald chuckles. 

"I don't know what do it," Ed moves forward. "And I don't like not knowing what to do. And the library is no help, and the picture shows make it all look so formal and horrible and-." 

Oswald cuts him off with his hand. "Just be yourself. Isabelle is a frank woman, she can smell bullshit from a mile away. Just be sure to compliment her, my cousin can be a very vain woman."

"If only I could practice on someone else," Ed snaps his fingers. "Someone like you. Just to practice like." 

It is a bad idea, the worst idea of bad ideas. But Oswald finds himself unable to say no to Ed's puppy dog eyes. 

"Dinner. After your shift. Olga will let you in upstairs. Wear the blue suit I bought you last week... Isabelle will like you in that I believe." 

It isn't a date, he reminds himself. This isn't a date. 

"Thank you, Oswald!" Ed hugs him quickly. "I knew you would know what to do." 

"Now go before I change my mind," Oswald pushes him out the door. 

Isabelle would owe him. Big time. 

* * *

Ed has never been up to Mr. Cobblepot's personal quarters, he wonders if Victor Zsasz has or if their arrangement was below quarters only. He blushes with the thought.

Catching the assassin with his hands down the boss's pants, literally, had certainly been a surprise but made sense of some of the innuendos he had heard from the staff. 

But did it change what he thought of Oswald? No, of course not. He is only intrigued by what he does not know, that is all. 

He knocks on the door nervously, what if he is too early, what if he is too late, what is Oswald has forgotten, what if he changed his mind, what if- 

The door opens revealing a dour maid. Olga, his memory supplies. 

"Edward Nygma, here to see Mr. Cobblepot," he says with a confidence he does not feel. 

"Yes, know who you are I do, young man," the maid shoves him in quite rudely. "It is good the master has finally invited you up, it is. He is very lonely man, he is. Far too proud for his own good. His father was never as proud, he wasn't. And his poor mother, may she rest in-." 

"That will be quite enough, Olga. You may retire for the night," Oswald enters the foyer, his large presence almost overpowering in such a small place, despite his short stature.

"Yes, yes. Walls thin, Mr. Nygma but Olga will sleep with earplugs, she will. Not hear thing she won't," she winks at Ed. She leans towards Oswald and whispers loudly enough for Ed to hear her. "He pretty but too skinny. You will need to fatten this one up so not to break him, we will." 

"Good night, Olga," Oswald gently pushes her towards the entrance he had come through. "I apologize for Olga. She is quite obstinate but she has been with the family since I was a baby. She is family." 

"Family is important to you," Ed says. It is one of the things about Oswald he admires most.

"It is the most important thing there is," Oswald smiles. "Wealth, respect, they mean nothing without family to share them with." 

"I would not know anything about that, my family was not, they were not the type to inspire familial loyalty." To say the least, he thinks. But it is something he has always longed for. 

"Sometimes the people we are born to are not our family, I was lucky in that regard many others are not, others like Martin," Oswald tells him. "Family is here," he taps at his own chest. "Not in our blood." 

"I would like to believe that," Ed responds earnestly. He hopes he has found his family of the heart here. With Oswald, and hopefully Isabella. "Here," he takes his hands from behind his back and holds out the flowers he had brought. "These are for you." 

"Lilies," Oswald caresses the petals. "An unconventional choice. But they were my mother's favorite." 

"I remembered," he says. Oswald had decked out the lounge in white lilies on the anniversary of his mother's birthday. "I chose yellow to symbolize friendship and thankfulness and orange to symbolize wealth, I thought you might appreciate that." 

"That was very thoughtful of you, Ed but unnecessary." 

"I just figured... a man is supposed to bring flowers on a date," he wonders if he has done something to give insult, perhaps the rule does not apply when the date is with another man. Not that this is an actual date, of course not. 

"Perhaps you should have saved them for your actual date with my lovely cousin then, yes?" Oswald's mouth quirks. 

"I plan to purchase orchids prior to our date, roses are too common for someone of Isabella's stature." They would be a little more than he should spend but she is worth their wealth in gold. 

"Indeed," Oswald gestures Ed through the entrance. "Olga cooked beef stroganoff, no onions per your preference naturally," he follows behind Ed. "Please excuse the mess, I am in the middle of having some additional security put in place." 

Ed notices the holes in the walls and dangling wires around the door frame and wonders if the security perimeters include offensive as well as defensive measures. Perhaps he could suggest some improvements to Oswald after dinner. 

Other than the obvious renovations, Oswald’s living quarters are clean and classy without the sleazy decor of the lounge. The lighting is dim enough to be comfortable on the eyes but still bright enough to read a book by. Not that Oswald is the type to actually read the books displayed on the bookshelves. 

"Olga set the table," Oswald gestures towards the dining table. "Unfortunately she seems to have the wrong idea regarding dinner. Olga's grasp of the English language is at times very selective. I hope this is not too uncomfortable for you, considering." 

The table is both long and wide enough to sit more than a dozen dinner guests however only the head of the table and the seat at the left of it has been set. 

"Whatever do you mean?" he asks somewhat confused. 

"The intimacy of the seating arrangement, does it not make you apprehensive now that you know of my predilection towards your own sex?" Oswald asks back with a lifted brow. 

"Why would that make a difference?" he shrugs. "We have sat closer downstairs at the bar." 

"You continue to surprise me, Ed," Oswald tilts his head something like a bird. "There are not many men that would share that viewpoint." 

"Then they would be fools," Ed blushes. "As many men are." He feels as though he has passed some sort of trial. 

Oswald puts the flower arrangement on the table.

"But not yourself, it would seem," Oswald smiles with a nod and moves to pull out his chair. 

"Wait, let me do that for you," Ed moves forward before he can finish and pulls the chair out for him. "If this is an actual dress rehearsal for my date with Isabella, I should be the one to do that." 

"Well are you not the gentleman," Oswald chuckles. "Where did you learn such manners?" 

"Picture shows," Ed moves to his own chair to Oswald's left. "As a boy I often found refuge in a dark theater." 

Oswald's mother had been a great fan of movie musicals but Oswald himself had always thought the cinema a waste of time. 

"Something you and my cousin have in common then," he spreads the napkin in his lap. "Isabell-a always imagined herself on film as the starlet of her own movie, a femme fatale." 

"And yourself?" Ed takes a drink of white wine. "What sort of movie would yourself be the star of?" 

"No doubt a gangster flick," he chuckles. "I've always thought of myself as an Edward G Robinson type, wouldn't you say?" 

"I would think more James Cagney, I would think," Ed cuts his eyes quickly away. 

Oswald clears his throat, if it were anyone else he would almost think Ed is flirting with him. "What about your self, who would you play in the story of your life?" 

"I have always been partial to comedies I guess, romantic comedies," he shrugs self consciously. "Maybe a musical." 

"You sing?" Oswald teases. "Perhaps I should put you up on stage instead of behind the bar." 

"Not well," Ed shakes his head, no. "A little. I was in the church choir, before my voice changed. Now I only sing in the shower and when listening to albums." 

"Well then, why don't I play us some music?" Oswald stands up and moves to the album player. He automatically reaches for his mother's favorite and puts it on. "Care to take a spin around the floor with me?" He holds his hand out to Ed. 

"Dance?... I'm afraid I don't know how," Ed looks down at his hand nervously. 

"Then no time like the present to learn," he insists. "My dear cousin will expect you to dance, best you know how." 

"Um... if you think that's best," Ed finally takes the offered hand and pulls himself up. "It may be done alone, with one partner or many. A bride shares it with father and groom. What am I?" 

"You are a dance," Oswald laughs. "Do not be nervous, you only need follow my lead." He takes both of Ed's hands and begins to guide him into a simple dance. 

He had told Ed not to be nervous but it is him that is the nervous one, having Ed in his arms at last. He can almost pretend this is an actual date. 

Ed has started to sing under his breath. 

"You have a lovely voice, Ed," he tells him. 

'This can't be love, because I feel so well, but still I love to look in your eyes.' Oswald can almost pretend Ed is singing the words to him. 

"You have nice eyes," Ed stops singing to say. "I cannot tell if they are blue or green, or both." 

Oswald likes Ed's eyes, dark warm brown. He could fall into their depths and become lost. 

"I have been told they are hazel," he replies. And he has been told, as a veiled compliment, that they are his best and only good feature. 

"Isabella's eyes are the same color," Ed smiles down at Oswald. "Although her's seem more blue." 

This is not about him, was never about him. This whole thing is a charade for his beloved cousin, he must not forget that. He will gift them one of his best properties to live on after the immanent wedding. 

"Perhaps you should save the charm for my dear cousin, yes?" He forces a laugh. "It seems a shame to waste on me." 

"I... did not mean to give offense, I was actually going to say, I prefer your eyes. The green in them is... quite unique," he looks away. "I apologize, perhaps I was being inappropriate." 

"Please, Ed, you never have to worry about being inappropriate in my presence," he assures him. "We are friends, brothers even." 

"I... thank you, I am grateful for everything you have done for me," he blushes. "And it is my wish that we become family in truth." 

"Isabell-a would be a lucky woman," he tells him. Luck has never been his, he has always had to take, steal, and buy everything that he has earned. But he would never do that to Ed. "And she will be pleased with your dance lesson, I believe." 

"You are a good teacher, but something doesn't seem right," Ed frowns thoughtfully. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well if I am to dance with Isabella, it seems I should learn how to be lead," his dark eyes meet Oswald's without looking away. "But if that would be too weird-." 

The best thing to do would be to fake a business emergency and end both date and dance. But Oswald is a selfish man and he is not quite ready for this night to end, even if it were all he would ever have, especially then. 

"Of course, leading is simple, simply reverse your steps," Oswald instructs. He follows his own instructions. It is strange letting another have control over him in this manner but he feels secure in Ed's hands. 

"Oswald... I," Ed pauses and before he knows what the other man has planned he is kissing him. Oswald moves his head to the side for a better angle, and to move his beak of a nose out of the way. He is all too conscious of his stomach pressing against Ed, but the slimmer man does not seem to mind it. Oswald makes the attempt to deepen the kiss and- 

Ed suddenly breaks it off, his hand is over his mouth and he looks horrified. "Oswald... I apologize... I don't know what came over me... I'm so sorry." 

Oswald steps away and takes off the album. "I think it would be best if you leave now," he speaks to him with his back turned towards him.

"Am I... am I being let go?" He can hear the tears in Ed's voice. 

"No, don't be-," Oswald sighs. "It's just been a long night, good night, Ed." 

"Good night, Oswald." 

When he is finally alone again he picks up the vase of flowers and throws them against the wall.

* * *

Ed cannot stop thinking about the kiss. He does not know what had come over him, the music, the soft light, dancing with Oswald, the way Oswald had looked. He had been thinking about how much he had wanted to kiss him and the next thing he knew he was. 

Ed touches his lips. Oswald's mouth had been strong under his, unyielding like the boss himself, and his lips had tasted of the liquor and cigar he enjoys so much. 

The kiss had been everything, and more, he had imagined it would be. And maybe if things had been different he could have fallen in love with Oswald but he has his eyes, and heart, set on the lovely Isabella. Even her name is divine.

And Oswald apparently has Zsasz, a man Ed does not wish to cross. 

The Sirens is as different to the Iceberg as can be, there is an obvious feminine touch missing from the lounge. And the female occupants out number the male three to one, at least. It makes him feel out of place. 

A young woman spots him and walks towards him, she does not look older than sixteen. She stops in front of and tilts her head up at him. 

"You Nygma?" 

"Ed Nygma," he supplies. 

"Bella said to take you to her when you arrived," she begins to move away without checking if he is following. "She don't pay me to escort her dates through the club, it's a waste of my talents, I deserve to be a full-fledged Siren, but no, I get the duty of escorting you, you're awfully skinny aren't you? And tall, you're too tall, anyone ever tell you that? Don't see what Bella sees in you. We're here." 

Ed almost runs into the girl she stops so suddenly. Bella stands up from the back booth. "You're early," she smiles at him. "I like promptness in a man."

"This is for you," he pushes the orchids towards her. 

"For me?" She smells the flowers. "They are lovely, thank you. Take these to my rooms."

"Great, now I'm a maid," the girl mumbles. "Yes, mistress. Right away, mistress," the girl takes the vase and mockingly gives a curtsy. "Will that be all?" 

"Barbara said to send you to her regarding a job," Bella smiles at the girl. "Magpie stole something from us, you will help steal it back." 

"A job?" the girl grins. "You're sending me on a job? I'll show you, I can be trusted. Magpie ain't a real thief, I'll get the item back for you, you got my word." 

"Leave us now, Selina." 

Ed watches the strange girl walk away. "She's a little young to be a thief, isn't she?" There is something about the young girl that reminds him of himself. 

"Selina has been a thief for about as long as she could walk," Isabella laughs. "That girl child is part cat." She sits back down. "Sit, Ed. We have business to discuss." 

Ed sits down confused by Isabella's choice of words. But first he needs to tell her what happened, she deserves to know. "I have a confession to make, I kissed Oswald," he tells her. 

Isabella claps her hands together. "See I told you, you didn't even need my help. And did my cousin kiss you back?" 

"I...," this is hardly the reaction he had expected. "He did." He had, hadn't he, Ed realizes. In the heat of the moment he had not realized. 

"I'm so happy for you, Ed," she grabs his hands across the table. "For both of you, my cousin deserves some happiness. And I had a feeling you would be good for him." 

"I'm afraid I'm confused," he takes his hands from hers. "You are happy Oswald and I kissed?" 

"Of course," she shrugs. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"But I thought we were, I thought this was," Ed pauses even more confused. "You gave me your number, I asked you out, is this not a date?" 

"A date?" Isabella pushes back in her seat. "I thought you were asking my help on setting you up with my cousin. Oh, Ed, I'm sorry, but there has been a misunderstanding." 

"But...," Ed pauses, it all made sense. "I have ruined everything with Oswald." 

"Are you saying you do not have feelings for my cousin at all?" Isabella leans forward on her elbows. 

"I do not know," he answers truthfully. "Nor do I know if he has feelings for me." Does he want Oswald to have feelings for him? 

"Oh, Ed," Isabella giggles. "My cousin is heads over heels about you." 

"I don't think so," he shakes his head. "I... um... caught Oswald and Zsasz in an compromising position in Oswald's office." 

"Victor Zsasz is not one to be trusted," Isabella frowns. "Oswald has a rat in his organization and I have a reason to believe the rat goes by the name Victor Zsasz. If you care for my cousin at all you will get the assassin away from him." 

"Do you believe Oswald is in danger?" His heart freezes in his chest.

"Before coming to work with Oswald, Zsasz was the personal assassin to the Falcone family," Isabella answers. "And the Falcone family wants nothing more than to see the Cobblepot empire fall." 

"I have to go," Ed jumps to his feet. Oswald could be with Zsasz right now! 

"Of course, but remember, Ed," she puts her hand over his on the table , "if you love my cousin, run to him. Run towards love." 

Run towards love, is that why he is in such a hurry to get back to Oswald?

"Thank you, Isabella," for more than she knows. 

"Please, my friends call me, Bella," she smiles.

"Bella," he repeats and it feels right. 

Ed rushes out, he just hopes he isn't too late.

* * *

Ed throws open the door to Oswald's office without knocking. He finds Oswald sitting behind his desk with Zsasz standing close beside leaning down. 

"Ed, what are you-," Oswald stands. 

"You," Ed points to Zsasz, "out." 

"Are you going to allow your pet to speak to me in such a manner, Oswald?" Zsasz looks amused. 

"You heard him, out," Oswald has already dismissed the assassin, all of his attention is on Ed now. 

"Very well, you know how to find me," Zsasz bows mockingly at them both and takes his leave. 

"What is this about Ed?" Oswald looks and sounds angry, he had not anticipated Oswald might not be happy to see him. 

"He is a rodent with a hairless tail, often caged in labs," Ed tells him. He should be embarrassed by how easy the riddle is. "What is he?" 

"A rat," Oswald sighs, grows less angry. "You have been speaking to Isabell-a, I see. By the way, shouldn't you still be on your date?" 

"I left early," Ed answers. 

"Why?" Oswald demands. 

"Isabella reminded me there was somewhere else I wanted to be," Ed takes a step towards Oswald. "You kissed me back, didn't you?" 

"I hardly see what that has to do with Zsasz-."

"When I kissed you, you kissed me back." Ed has to hear it from Oswald first. He is not brave enough to take that first step. 

Oswald looks away and Ed is afraid he will lie, or that he was wrong after all. "Yes, I did," he faces Ed bravely. 

"Run towards love," Ed smiles and moves forward. What he had been feeling was love the whole time but it was never Isabella, he is sure of that now. It is Oswald, it had always been Oswald. 

And this time when they kissed neither of them pulled away. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Finishing this fic made me realize how much I have missed the Gotham and Nygmobblepot fandom these past few months.
> 
> This really makes it sound like I'm done with this ship. But I'm really not! Actually this fic rekindled my love for it so ... Who knows?


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